


Nightmares and Awakenings

by D0ll



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:17:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D0ll/pseuds/D0ll
Summary: Every time Sweeney sleeps he's haunted by the  memory of the crash he created replaying over and over again in his mind. But he can only put off sleep for so long. Only one person can end his torment.





	Nightmares and Awakenings

**Author's Note:**

> I got a request on tumblr that said, "I've got this idea of Mad Sweeney having nightmares and Laura kinda watches over him and wakes him up when she realizes something is off. Ofcourse he doesn't have to know she's doing it on purpose. I hope you enjoy this and I really did love your idea. I'm sorry it took me a long time to post.

It's twelve am by the time they see a flickering sign that reads motel on a deserted highway. They trudge up the hill to the vacant parking lot. His black boots kick up dust in the dry heat of summer. Car number four was burnt toast and long story short Sweeney is sure Laura is trying to end his miserable existence. Something numerous gods, the church and countless wars hadn't been able to do.

As soon as they get inside the room Laura hurries to the bathroom shutting and locking the door behind her. Sweeney is glad the fleas that fly around her followed her in the bathroom as well. He thinks their constant buzzing is driving him even madder than he already was. She's in such a rush that she forgets she hasn't insulted him in over an hour. Either she's getting rusty or the heat had done no favors for her corpse. 

Sweeney wonders if the heat and or the decay effected her vocal cords. The thought of Laura not being able to talk doesn't make him gleeful as it should. His stomach turns at the idea of her being conscious but unable to move or articulate. It's the same dread he feels when he sees Wednesday's damn crows or that day he first saw Laura's obituary. He still has the newspaper page tucked away in his jacket pocket. It was in a tiny square the creases deep and wide from being folded and refolded over and over again. Sweeney hadn't meant to keep it, he hadn't even wanted to see the obituary but something compelled him to get the newspaper and immediately flip towards it. When he saw Laura's photo this time without the horror of the crash to blur his vision she looked so much like Essie it took him aback. He ripped the page out and tucked it into his pocket without another thought. 

Sweeney tosses his jacket on the chair and sits on the old bed. He stretches his long legs and lays back against the pillows the old mattress creaking under his weight. The itchy blankets and thin sheets did nothing to hide how hard and shitty the mattress was but Sweeney could care less. After spending days and nights in the backseat of shit stained taxi, frozen ice cream truck and cramped cars. It felt like heaven to be able to fully stretch out his long limbs. 

Every muscle in him is exhausted. He feels drawn out like a car running on only willpower and fumes. The consequences of trying to keep up with undead superwoman there. He knows it's mostly insomnia that is making him this tired still he fights the temptation to fall asleep. Sweeney sighs an shuts his eyes for a second too long and red crimson passes through his mind he opens his eyes and shakes his head trying to rid himself of the image 

Sweeney finds the remote and flips the channels landing on an episode of MASH. He laughs at the rerun he's watched hundreds of times as he chugged down an extra large coffee. He hoped the caffeine and sugar will put him off sleep for at least one more night. 

Dreams were meant for mortals. Humans can enjoy fantasies of things yet to come, for an immortal  everything has already passed. Nightmares were made for humans too. A god has nothing to fear from monsters. 

Sweeney can't help but to feel like he's intruding like he is somewhere he isn't supposed to be when he dreams. Still he enjoys it. It's the only way for his mind to escape from his bleak existence to a better time. When people still believed in him and he was always left a cup of porridge or a pint of ale. In these dreams he can see Essie's bright smile and hear her laugh ringing clear as a bell. 

Other nights Sweeney's mind conjures up Ireland. Even though his boots haven't touched the moss, his nose hasn't smelled the briny, salty sea air or his eyes seen the grassy cliffs in hundreds of years. It's clear as day to him in his dreams. The cloudy sky, cliffs with the blue ocean hitting the hard stone below. Back when he was a king among men with his whole life to look forward to. A loving wife and wee children running tugging at his leg one day grandchildren. When he awakes he remembers how he abandoned his kingship and his people for what? For the prolonged and wretched existence of a forgotten fairy tale creature? 

Sleep had been Sweeney's escape. Should it be a surprise to him that it too turned it's back on him like everything else? He had been putting off rest for days now. Turning up the radio as Laura drives. Which more often then not led to a fight over the radio if she didn't like his music. Why was he still letting her drive after her record is a mystery to him. A large part of it being he had little choice with her super strength.

Sweeney guzzled caffeine and sugar induced soda and coffee like he was a man dying of this. All in a futile effort to avoid the unavoidable. Sweeney had drunk the last drop of soda and decides to get more. He thinks about asking, telling Laura where he's headed but berates himself for even thinking he had to ask the bitch's permission. 

Sweeney comes back in the room with an arm full of candy, soda and chips. His endless supply of gold coins fit most vending machine perfectly the only thing left of his luck. The first thing he notices is bathroom door is open and Laura isn't there. Panic runs through him but he reasons that she needed him so she wasn't going anywhere... Not that he cared if she did. In fact it would be the only lucky thing to happen to him in weeks if she turns into someone else's problem. His mind conjures up an image of Laura and Shadow back together and happy the thought clenches something deep inside his stomach. A shrill voice in his head hollers that he's lying to himself. But he fiercely ignores it pulling the blanket closer as if to block out his treasonous thoughts and focuses determinedly on the television. 

But without Laura's big mouth to keep him awake with ninety percent insults and ten percent random musings about life. It's difficult to stay awake. So he succumbs quickly lulled by the television to sleep like an infant by its mother. The soda can falls falling out of his hand and spilling across the tattered carpet. 

The first thing Sweeney sees is the night sky and empty highway. He curses he knows what is going to happen the same dream has repeating itself for weeks now. Ever since the night of the accident. And he is as powerless to stop it in his dream as much as he was in life. His body goes numbly over the motions as he had that night. Knowing what is going to eventually come but unable to stop it. Even if his mind resists with every motion. Then he's standing Laura's broken and battered body watching her die. His ears hears her every gasp for air and his eyes sees her every wound. He can't move it's like he's supernatural bound there.

Laura's blood runs in rivets over the pavement and to his shoes. He wants to vomit but instead the crows appear and he tells them it's done. And then it repeats. Over and over again. Until Sweeney has lost count of how many times he's watched Laura die. He wants the ground to swallow him whole. He wants anything to happen that could end this torment. Dying can't hurt worst than this. Sweeney is scared he might actually turn mad when something rouses him from his nightmare. 

"Hey ginger minge!" Laura eyebrows wrinkle when she doesn't hear an insult back or even a grunt. She uses the light from the dim light of the TV to navigate her way through the room. She sets her bags from the small store across the street next to her bed and flips on the bedside lamp.

Laura had seen her once favorite feature her eyes turn dead and cold, her once flawless skin covered in stitches and turn gray and her own chest ripped open. But all those things hadn't taken her as a back as Sweeney's appearance did in that moment. She's seen him beat up, sometimes by her own hand, but never before has he looked so anguished and frightened. He's shivering, covered in a cold sweat, tossing and turning and crying out. Laura is worried the feeling is so sharp it takes her aback. She hadn't known she could feel this much emotion let alone for him. But she swiftly reasons it's only because she needs his help get her resurrected and then get Shadow back. 

Laura shakes him violently and when that doesn't rouse him she slaps his face, "Wake up!" Sweeney gasps his eyes flashing open and instead of an deserted highway he sees a small sleazy hotel room. Sweeney breathes a sigh of relief. But his contentment doesn't last long because he killed her.

But then he sees Laura. It was just a dream! He didn't kill her her she was alive and well in front of him! He cries out in joy and reaches for her madly. Crushing her small body to him. Laura is so taken a back she doesn't pull away or fight his hug. She'd hate to admit it. But she hasn't been touched in days and his arms around her feel solid and warm and good. It takes all if her will power to put her hands on his shoulders ready to shove him away because she can't do this again to Shadow. When she feels hot wet tears soaking through her shirt he was mumbling an odd language, "Ní am olc! Ní am!" His hands roll down her curves and he stops when he feels her stitches and it all comes back to him. She is dead. He's the one who killed her. 

"I'm so fuckin' sorry Laura." His voice cracks. He isn't one for apologies. Sweeney takes his hair and pulls it by the roots. Red strands sticking to his palms. He wants pain. He deserves it. Sobs wreck through his body. One cool hand on his back makes him freeze his cries lessening into sniffles. 

"Wasn't your fault. It was Wednesday. You were just following orders. You didn't even know me." Laura says softly. Sweeney looks up hopefully at her tender expression her cool hand still on his shoulder. She's concerned about him, she wants to comfort him. It takes him aback because they were never kind to one another. He doesn't deserve kindness let alone from her. She had all the justification in the world to hate him.

But she extends her arms out towards him. And he falls in her arms knowing he doesn't deserve it but not caring. Greedy for any tenderness. Creatures like him were made to be acknowledged and loved. And he's been without it so long it twist his heart and made him cruel and jaded. Though Sweeney has a feeling she only meant this to be a brief hug he drags her against him over the edge of the bed so she's laying in the middle of the bed with him. His arm wound tightly around her not letting her go thankful she isn't resisting. Her body is cold but he will warm her. The stench of her is burning his nose but he breathes through his mouth and presses her tighter to him. 

Sweeney cradles her head to his chest then closes his eyes for once blood doesn't appear flooding his mind. He breathes out slowly in relief. Her forgiveness quieted his nightmares. With Laura in his arms Sweeney realizes he isn't truly sorry after all. Isn't sorry he killed Laura because now she's with him and away from Shadow. Now she needs him. Laura has an ability to quiet the darkness in him and he couldn't go on without her now. It makes him loathe himself even more. Sweeney hates this revelation, he hates that he's like this. But he's more selfish than he is sorry. He wants Laura all to himself and he'll do what he has to keep her with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really think I would end this on a kind if dark note for Sweeney it just happened.


End file.
